


Holding Out for Hope

by mailroomorder



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Future Fic, M/M, Parenthood, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 21:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mailroomorder/pseuds/mailroomorder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A forty year old father and widow, Blaine hasn't dated anyone in years. When he finally meets someone who's kind, sweet, and easy to fall in love with, he's on top of the world. Then he introduces his eleven year old son to him and discovers how difficult life can be when the most important person in his world, his son, hates the guy he's dating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Out for Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mention of character death (OMC). Based on a Blangst Prompt of the Day. The prompt (which will spoil the story) is at the notes at the end.
> 
> Rebloggable on [Tumblr](http://mailroomorder.tumblr.com/post/57772060741/holding-out-for-hope)

                When they first start seeing each other, Blaine keeps his relationship with Kurt a secret. Henry doesn’t need to know about it. He is almost eleven; he is young, innocent, and still learning how to cope with the sudden death of one of his fathers’ six years ago.

                Blaine will go out for coffee or lunch or even just walks with Kurt while Henry is at school or with friends. He will sometimes hire babysitters and tell Henry that Dad is going out with a friend and that he’d see him later.

                But when things start getting more serious between him and Kurt, Blaine is hit with the all-too-sudden realization that Henry will have to be brought into the mix. His son is the most important person in his life, and he can’t have a relationship with anyone unless his son agrees. He’s been seeing Kurt regularly—and monogamously—for over four months, known him for almost nine, when he first breeches the subject.

                “How would you feel,” he pauses in between breaths, playing with the silverware laid on his napkin in front of him, “meeting Henry?”

                Kurt’s eyes widen and his jaw goes slightly slack.

                “Are you sure?” He asks.

                Blaine only nods in return.

                “I’d love to,” Kurt responds.

                “I don’t know if I’m ready…to tell him everything—yet,” Blaine stammers out, eyes unable to meet Kurt’s. He lifts his head when he feels Kurt place a hand on top of his, halting the movement of his finger over the fraying napkin.

                “What would you like?” Kurt asks.

                “I would never hide you,” Blaine decides on after a moment of thought. “If he ever asks, I’d never lie. But I want him to get used to you first, before I tell him who you are—or that we’re dating. I just want him to _know_ you. And get comfortable with you. He’s still so… _stuck_ on Daniel,” Blaine sighs. It’s hard to talk about his past husband, especially with Kurt. His heartbeat races and his tear glands swell up when he does, begging him to walk away from Kurt and live a life of solitude; telling him that you only have one true love and that you aren’t lucky enough to have a second chance. He never listens to it though, because when he eventually looks up at Kurt and sees the kindness and patience etched deep into his eyes, he realizes that what he has here is the potential for greatness—the potential for love.

                “I don’t know much about kids,” Kurt admits. “But I would love to meet Henry and….and take things slow. I want him to like me, too, you know. I want to be a part of his life,” he blushes. He squeezes Blaine’s hand and Blaine lets out a small huff of laughter.

                “Serious stuff over. Let’s eat.”  He says.

                He only has a few more hours with Kurt in Kurt’s apartment. It’s a Friday night and he doesn’t like getting home later than eleven-thirty if he can help it—doesn’t like having his babysitters travel home so late at night. But he revels in these moments of domesticity and solitude with Kurt where he can go back to feeling happy and alive and filled to the brim with life. He’s almost forty and it amazes him how lucky he is to find someone as special as Kurt.

* * *

                He spends the entirety of the next day with Henry. He takes Henry to baseball practice in the morning before immediately carting him over to his soccer game. He never thought he’d have a kid who was so into sports, and it surprises him how into it he personally became. When he watches Henry practice his bunting he’s reminded of all the hours he put into coaching Henry’s Little League team, Daniel on the sidelines in his Yankees cap laughing with love.

                After the game he brings Henry home so they can both shower and eat dinner.

                “If you finish your green beans— _without_ adding salt to them—I’ll take you out for froyo tonight,” he tells Henry over homemade burgers.

                “Really?” Henry asks, face lighting up.

                “Absolutely.” It’s a ploy, really. He wants to bring up Kurt while Henry’s happy.

                When they finish dinner and wash the dishes, they head a few blocks down the street to one of their favorite independently owned froyo shops.

                They sit at one of the outside tables, enjoying the warm spring air in companionable silence.

                “I want you to meet someone,” Blaine says seemingly out of the blue, startling Henry from his thoughts.

                “Huh?” He responds.

                “A good friend of mine. I want to bring him around for a barbecue next week. If you’re okay with that,” he adds.

                Henry just shrugs his shoulders and offers up a lame, “Whatever.”

                Blaine nods his head and they continue on with talking about Henry’s Social Studies project and if he’s decided what camp he wants to attend this summer.

                The first moment he has free, though, Blaine slips his phone out of his pocket and shoots a text off to Kurt.

                _When are you free for a weekend bbq? At my place!!_ _: )_

                He feels his phone vibrate barely a minute later, but has to wait until he and Henry get home to check it.

* * *

                The next Saturday has Blaine running around the house picking up anything that doesn’t belong, vacuuming the living room one more time, and taking his frustrations out on his son for not doing a proper job with his weekly chores.

                “Seriously, Henry. This is _not_   vacuuming job. If you did it right the first time then I wouldn’t have to do it again!”

                “Why are you freaking out? There’s nothing on the floor! Sheesh,” Henry says while packing away the pile K*Nex laying on the ground. He shakes his head as he passes by his father to put the bag of toys into his room.

                “Go get dressed!” Blaine screams after him.

                He puts the vacuum away and runs into his room to change into something less sweaty. He showered earlier, but suddenly wishes that he had time to shower again. Unfortunately he does not, because right when he takes his pants off the doorbell rings.

                “Damn it,” he says. Kurt’s ten minutes early. Which is actually good for Kurt, considering he’s usually much earlier than that for their plans.

                Blaine throws on a pair of dark wash jeans and walks out to the front door, opening it.

                “Oh my,” Kurt says. “I didn’t know it was _this_ kind of party.”

                Blaine laughs.

                “I didn’t have time to pick a shirt out.”

                Kurt nods his head, shifting on his feet.

                “I’m nervous,” Blaine whispers. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

                “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?” Kurt asks, leaning forward just a bit.

                “I don’t know what to do here,” Blaine replies. “I just want him to like you. But I don’t want to overwhelm him.”

                “I’ll be your friend,” Kurt replies. “Just introduce me as your special friend.”

                “The most special,” Blaine says as he grabs Kurt’s hands with his own and places a kiss on his lips. “Come on. You can help me pick out a shirt.”

                They disentangle their arms when they walk through the house, and as Blaine passes Henry’s door he knocks.

                “Kurt’s here. I’m going to talk to him for a few minutes. Then I’ll meet you outside in the back.”

                Henry lets out an affirmative reply, and Blaine opens the door at the end of the hall and lets Kurt walk in first.

                “Welcome to my humble abode.”

                The walls are painted beige, with a maroon accent wall, dark wood furniture, and a navy blue comforter on a big, comfy looking bed. The closet door is wide open, and Kurt walks towards it.

                “Can I?” he asks, gesturing towards the open door.

                “Go for it.” Blaine follows behind him.

                Kurt rummages through his closet looking for a shirt that presumably goes with his own, as every shirt he takes out ends up being put against his own shirt to check for compatibility.

                “Here.” Kurt gives him a light blue button up that has a few scratches and small stains on it. It’s one of Blaine’s ‘Play Shirts,’ but Kurt doesn’t know that. He smiles at Kurt when he grabs it, thinking that Kurt is really setting the tone for the day: relaxed and informal.

                When they leave the room Blaine gives Kurt a quick tour of his modest, three bedroom house before walking him to the kitchen and handing him some snack food to bring outside.

                “I figure we can hang out and talk for a bit and make food a bit later.”

                Kurt nods and heads to the outside patio, bowl of pretzels in hand.

                Henry is already outside when they get there, kicking a soccer ball around and practicing his juggling.

                “Henry. Come over here,” Blaine calls out.

                Henry ditches the ball and walks towards Blaine.

                “Henry, I want you to meet my friend Kurt. Kurt, this is my son Henry.”

                “Nice to meet you,” Kurt says, sticking his hand out.

                Henry shakes it limply, staring at him.

                “You, too,” he mumbles before releasing Kurt’s hand from his grip.

                Blaine ushers them all over to the round table and pulls Kurt’s chair out for him before grabbing the chair next to him, Henry sitting on the other side and looking at Kurt quizzically.

                “So,” Kurt begins. “I hear you love sports.”

                Henry sits there, shoulders hunched and arms lying on the table, staring at Kurt as if he were an alien.

                “Uh huh,” he grunts.

                Kurt’s smile falters and Blaine’s falls completely, but Kurt keeps trying.

                “Do you like to watch or just play?”

                “Both,” Henry replies.

                “Cool. Do you have any favorite teams?”

                “Yeah.”

                Kurt just nods his head and looks at Blaine for help.

                “He likes the Yankees. And the uh, Philadelphia Union. The soccer team. Uhm, Henry. Anything else?” Blaine asks.

                Henry just shrugs his shoulders.

                “Can I practice now?” He says as he gets up from the table and goes back to the grass.

                “Well that went well,” Kurt deadpans.

                Blaine lets his head fall onto his hands, wishing he could just reach across and grab onto Kurt for comfort. Instead he takes comfort in their feet touching below the table—out of view from Henry.

                “He’s very uh…monosyllabic,” Kurt says.

                “I swear he’s normally more talkative!” Blaine defends.

                “It’s okay. Maybe he just isn’t in a good mood.”

                Blaine nods, trying to convince himself that that’s the case.

                “Come on,” he says to Kurt. “Let’s go get the chicken and start grilling.”

* * *

                The rest of the night doesn’t go so well.

                Henry continues ignoring Kurt. And when he can’t get away with that, he simply gives one word answers, grunts, or shrugs his shoulders.

                It’s put a damper on the evening; it’s full of awkward silences and impersonal conversations, and Blaine has to watch as Kurt flounders under the stare of his eleven year old son. When everyone is done eating, Blaine has Kurt help him bring the food in while Henry stays outside to wipe down the table.

                “I am _so_ sorry, Kurt. I have no idea what’s happening.”

                “It’s fine,” Kurt soothes, rubbing a hand up and down Blaine’s arms. “We’ll just try again. I’m not giving up.”

                Blaine smiles and presses a quick and chaste kiss to Kurt’s lips.

                “Come on. Maybe if we offer him ice cream he’ll perk up.”

                When they get outside Henry is kicking around the soccer ball again.

                “Hey, bud. You wanna grab some ice cream?”

                “Is Kurt coming?” Henry asks.

                “Uhm. Yes.” Blaine says, looking back and forth from Henry to Kurt.

                “I’m not hungry,” Henry replies, walking past Kurt and Blaine and heading inside the house.

                “Henry!” Blaine calls out. He follows him into the house leaving Kurt trailing behind him. “Get back here right now.”

                Henry stops and turns around, looking at Blaine. Kurt is standing awkwardly near the back door.

                “This is not how you treat our guest. This is not how you treat my _friend_.” Blaine speaks.

                Henry just shrugs his shoulders, eyes boring holes into the hard wood floor.

                “Is there something you’d like to say to Kurt?” Blaine tries.

                “Sorry,” he grits out, voice coiled tight.

                “You know what. It’s totally fine,” Kurt replies speedily. “Actually, I’m a bit worn out. But I had a lot of fun today. I’m just going to uh…head out. Thanks for today,” he smiles at Blaine and Henry, who is still looking at the floor.

                He walks towards the closet to grab his sweater as Henry shuffles upstairs.

                Blaine grabs Kurt’s shoulder before he can leave.

                “Please don’t go,” he whispers. “ _Please._ I’m _sorry_.”

                “I’m not leaving,” Kurt whispers back, leaning his forehead against Blaine’s. “We’ll try this again. I promise.”

                Blaine nods his head and offers up a goodbye kiss. He walks him to the end of the driveway and waves as Kurt pulls out and drives down the street. When he gets back inside he contemplates what he’s going to do next—with Kurt, with Henry. He can’t date anyone that Henry doesn’t like. But he doesn’t understand why Henry acted the way he did tonight, not even giving Kurt a chance. Henry’s never treated anyone so cruelly before. He’s always known to respect adults, even if he doesn’t like them.

                He knows that he needs to talk to Henry, so he heads up to Henry’s room and knocks on the door.

                “Come in,” he hears.

                Henry’s sitting on his bed reading a book. It’s early still, just past sunset, and Henry won’t be going to bed for a few more hours. Blaine was expecting Kurt would still be here. They’d go out for ice cream then maybe hit up a park and play a game of catch, then they’d come home and play a board game or watch a movie. Instead he has to talk to his son about being respectful.

                “What was that tonight, Hen?” He sits in the chair at Henry’s desk, watching as Henry puts the book down open on his chest to save his page.

                “What was what?”

                “You were really unwelcoming to my friend. You hurt his feelings.”

                Henry fiddles with his fingers and shrugs his shoulders.

                “I really like Kurt,” Blaine continues. “He’s a great friend of mine.”

                “Is he gay?” Henry asks.

                “I don’t see how that matters,” Blaine replies.

                When Henry continues to staring at Blaine, Blaine finally responds. “Yes. He’s gay. But that doesn’t matter. Why do you care?”

                “I don’t know,” Henry mumbles. “Just curious.”

                “You don’t… _care_ that he’s _gay_ , do you?” Blaine asks, sudden anxiety and hurt entering his heart. Henry was young when Daniel passed away and has never seen Blaine with another man. While they have loads of gay friends, many of whom are married, it’s just entering Blaine’s mind that maybe Henry’s going through some pubescent phase where he’s scared of gay people, or feels the need to assert his heterosexual manliness (he already came out to Blaine as straight a few months ago).

                “Huh?” Henry asks.

                “Uhm. You don’t care that he’s gay, right? Or does that make you…uncomfortable?”

                “Dad, I don’t care who’s gay, if that’s what you’re asking. _You’re_ gay. _Dad_ was gay.”

                “Okay. Okay. Just checking,” Blaine exhales.

                “I just don’t think I like Kurt,” Henry says.

                Blaine’s anxiety immediately rises again.

                “Why?”

                “I just don’t, geeze!” He moans in annoyance.

                “I think if you give him a chance you will,” Blaine responds. “It would mean a lot to me if you do.”

                He stands up as he says this and leans over and presses a kiss to Henry’s forehead before leaving and closing the door behind him. Kurt’s not leaving his life anytime soon, and he’s hoping that Henry will eventually get over whatever hang up he apparently has.

                When he gets to his room he grabs his phone and shoots Kurt a text, asking him if he got home all right.

                _I did. Thanks._

                **I know today was weird. But would you want to try again?**

                _Absolutely. I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t leaving, Blaine. You mean too much to me._

                **You mean a lot to me too.**

_What would you think of going to a Union game next month? I can get tickets for all of us. Hang_

_out with Henry on his turf._

**Kurt. That would be wonderful. Thank you.**

_Anything to make this work._

* * *

                The soccer game is five weeks away, and Blaine vows to have Kurt and Henry see each other a few more times before then so that they can be on good terms before the game.

                They go out to lunch once on a Sunday. Henry barely eats—just plays around with the food on his plate in between grunting responses. He eventually asks if they can leave, claiming a grumpy stomach. But an hour after they get home he leaves to play with a friend down the street.

                Blaine spends the day indoors shaking his leg and stress cleaning.

                On the plus side, their house has never been so clean.

                A few days after that Kurt comes with Blaine to one of Henry’s baseball games. They sit together on the bleachers with the other parents and cheer and clap whenever the team does well. Their team wins and Henry, who hit a double and made some great plays in the field, comes out of the dugout on a natural high. He gives Blaine a big hug, paying no attention to Kurt, who stays a weary foot behind Blaine.

                “Dad! Can I go out for ice cream with Charlie? His mom is taking us!”

                “I think we’re gonna go home, bud,” Blaine replies.

                “But Dad! Everyone is going!”

                “You went last time, Henry. Tonight we’re all going home,” he motions to the three of them, “and hanging out.”

                “What?! I have to go home to hang out with _him_?! I DON’T EVEN KNOW HIM!”

                “Blaine,” Kurt cuts in. “Don’t hold him back from his friends on my account. Let him go. We can all do something together another time.” He offers a smile to Henry before looking back at Blaine.

                All Blaine sees is an uncomfortable warning in his eyes.

                “Fine. But Henry, this isn’t happening again. When I say something I expect to be heard.”

                Henry hugs him again before running off with his friends.

                “Feel free to thank Kurt!” Blaine hollers after him.

                He gets no reply.

                Blaine shakes his head and turns to Kurt.

                “What was that about?” He asks.

                “I don’t want him to resent me,” Kurt replies. “I don’t want him to think that I’m going to take him away from his friends. I want him to like me, Blaine. I _need_ him to like me. I need him to know that I’m not going to tear his life apart—that nothing will change. I want to be an addition to the family. Not a subtraction.”

                Blaine nods. “I respect that. I want that, too.” He grabs onto Kurt’s hand when he sees the car that Henry’s in pull away, and he and Kurt walk back to Blaine’s car hand in hand. They drive home and spend an hour comfortably cuddling on the couch, trading kisses and anecdotes, dwelling on happy things.

* * *

                A week later finds Blaine and Kurt having a date night. They’re currently hanging out at Kurt’s apartment, having just gotten home from dinner and a show in New York. It’s late and Blaine doesn’t have much more time with Kurt. He wants to relieve his babysitter, who’s been at his house since four that afternoon. But she assured him via text that she is fine, just hanging out and surfing her computer, which Blaine had set up with his wireless password so she would have something to do other than watch TV after Henry went to bed at nine.

                He figures that she can wait a few more minutes and asks her if one in the morning is too late. She claims that it’s fine, and Blaine heaves a sigh of relief.

                “Well, she’s definitely going to get more than ten dollars an hour,” he tells Kurt after receiving the text.

                “Good babysitter?” Kurt asks.

                Blaine nods. “Yeah. Henry loves her.”

                “Blaine? Do you think Henry will ever come around to me?” Kurt asks, and it’s the first time he’s ever voiced this concern.

                “I think he will. I don’t know what’s up with him, to be honest. I have no idea why he’s being so stand off-ish.”

                “Do you think he _knows_?” Kurt asks.

                Blaine ponders this. “I don’t think so. Maybe? Are we obvious?”

                “I don’t know. We try not to be. But he’s not stupid. Maybe we should give him more credit.”

                Blaine hums an approval before cuddling back into Kurt’s embrace on the couch.

                “I love being in your arms,” he says, ready to move on from talking about Henry. He doesn’t get much alone time with Kurt, and he doesn’t want to waste it all talking about his son’s distaste of his boyfriend.

                “Good. Cause I like having you here.” Kurt squeezes his arm tighter around Blaine and places a light kiss on his shoulder.

* * *

                Things don’t get worse with Kurt and Henry, but they don’t exactly get better. Things are at a standstill, but a pleasant one at least. Henry won’t make any move to initiate conversation with Kurt, but he at least doesn’t ignore Kurt or stare bullets at him. He doesn’t enjoy Kurt’s company, but he stops rolling his eyes every time Blaine mentions going out with Kurt.

                They see each other a few more times before the soccer game, which is a secret to Henry. Kurt wants to surprise him with it, is hoping that this may be the event that will turn their wayward relationship around. If he can show Henry that he listens to him, he once told Blaine, then maybe Henry will finally open up to him.

                It’s a Thursday evening and the soccer game is Saturday night. They are going to make the drive down to Philly from Hoboken and tailgate with the fans. Kurt’s friend is a member of the soccer team’s fan club, so Kurt was able to get special tickets that involve a fan club barbecue and tailgate, and he thinks Henry will enjoy it. It is a surprise to Blaine when he finds out that Kurt went to such lengths for his child, went further than he was expecting. But it warms his heart at how invested in getting to know Henry Kurt is, how hard he’s working at trying to find common ground with his kid.

                Blaine is setting the table, waiting for Henry to finish getting changed from his shower—he had soccer practice tonight and came home sweaty and dirty, smelling like a swamp. When he comes down and sits at the table, Blaine hands him the pasta dish.

                “How was school?” He asks, chowing down.

                “It was good. I got a B+ on my spelling test.”

                “Awesome! Did you bring it home?” Blaine asks.

                “Yeah. It’s in my notebook. I’ll bring it down after dinner.”

                “Good. I’ll hang it on the fridge. And you have a math test next week, right?” Blaine grabs a piece of garlic bread, before handing the plate to his son.

                “Uh huh. Thursday or Friday.” Henry slurps a noodle up, getting sauce all over his face.

                “We’ll start studying for it this weekend. We’ll do some work on Friday.”

                “Okay. Can I hang out with Sam on Saturday?”

                “Actually, we have plans,” Blaine states in between bites.

                “What?” Henry asks, edge to his voice.

                “Kurt has a surprise for you.” Blaine looks up at Henry, wanting to judge his response.

                “I don’t care,” he says defiantly. “I want to hang out with Sam.”

                “Henry, please,” Blaine pleads. “Give him a shot. You’re going to have fun. I promise, you’ll enjoy this.”

                “Why do you always want us to hang out?!” Henry has stopped eating, his silverware lying on his plate and his hands bunched in fists atop the table.

                “Because he’s really important to me. I want you to like him. I know he likes you,” Blaine responds slowly, placing his utensils down as well. He makes sure to keep his voice as free from anger and frustration as possible.

                “Are you two boyfriends?” Henry asks, peeved.

                Blaine doesn’t know how to answer this. He wants to answer truthfully just as much as he wants to deny it all and just say that they’re best friends. But with Henry staring at him so deeply, eyes so wide and trusting, he knows he can’t

                “Yes. Kurt is my boyfriend.”

                Henry immediately gets up from the table and begins to stomp away.

                “Henry! Come back,” Blaine calls as he stands up.

                “No! You can’t do this. You can’t date him. YOU CAN’T!” Henry screams, running up the stairs. A few seconds later Blaine hears the slam of a door, and he falls back onto his chair and lets his head fall into his hands.

                He doesn’t sit there for long. Instead he starts cleaning up the dishes and putting away the food. He wipes down the table—twice—before moving onto the kitchen counters, then he Swiffer’s the kitchen and dining room floor. When he starts reorganizing the refrigerator he realizes that maybe he’s being a bit too OCD and just heads up to his room. He gets undressed and hits the shower, hoping that some of the steam will calm him down.

                It doesn’t work. Instead he ends up alone, with only his own thoughts for company. He begins thinking of all the possibilities Henry’s dislike of Kurt can cause. Will he have to break up with Kurt? How will he tell Kurt that his son seems to hate him? And what did Kurt do wrong? _Did_ he do something wrong?

                He’s not in love with Kurt yet. But he knows that what they have is special. He knows that this feeling he carries inside him is so close to love that it’s scary, and he can’t lose another lover again. _He can’t_.

                He ponders breaking up with Kurt now before he truly does fall for him. But his heart leaps out of his chest when he realizes what he’ll be losing if he does that, and he knows that he’s already in too deep.

                Hopping out of the shower and heading into his room, Blaine throws some pajamas on. He hears his phone vibrate and he grabs it, sitting on his bed. It’s Kurt, sending him a text telling him how excited he is for Saturday. Blaine’s heart hangs heavy in his chest as his eyes begin to water.

                He hasn’t cried in a while. Especially not sad tears. He’s prone to random bits of teardrops whenever he’s incredibly happy; like last year when Henry wrote an essay about his father, Daniel, being his hero; or a few months ago when he watched his fifth grade son explain to a new friend of his how proud he was to have two Dads, even if one of them was “up in Heaven right now. And yes, gay people go to Heaven.”

                But this type of crying, when your heart feels so heavy with sadness and burden, when you’ve been holding everything in that you feel like you might burst, when things haven’t been going your way and you can’t help but explode like a child, thinking “this isn’t fair! _This isn’t fair_.” He hasn’t experience this hopelessness in a while.

                He’s sitting on his bed, small whimpers escaping and tears solidly falling down his cheeks, when he hears his door creak open. He immediately wipes his face and snuffs up his snot, hoping he looks more presentable, but knowing that he most likely doesn’t.

                “Dad?” He hears, his son quiet and concerned.

                “Hey, buddy,” Blaine whispers back, unable to smile.

                “What’s wrong?”

                “I just have a lot on my mind,” he offers as a response.

                Henry is tip toeing into the room, eventually sitting beside Blaine on the bed.

                “Is it because of me?” He murmurs, unable to meet Blaine’s eyes.

                “It’s because of a lot of things,” Blaine settles on, not wanting to tell his child that _yes, part of the reason Daddy is crying is because you don’t like his boyfriend and that hurts his feelings and is making his life extremely difficult_.

                They sit in companionable silence, Henry leaning his head on his father’s shoulder, hands clasped tightly together in his lap.

                “I don’t want to forget Daddy,” he says quietly.

                Blaine sits very still. They don’t talk about Daniel much. It’s not that it’s not allowed, it’s just that it’s been almost six years since he’s passed, and they each remember him differently. Blaine never shies away from telling Henry how proud his other Dad would be, and how he is smiling down from Heaven, always looking over the two of them. Yet still, apart from Daniel’s birthday and occasional trips to the cemetery, they very rarely bring him up.

                “I don’t want _you_ to forget Daddy,” Henry continues.

                “I will _never_ forget your father, Henry.” Blaine grabs onto Henry’s hand, forcing Henry to stop bunching his hands into fists. They link fingers and Blaine squeezes. “Your father will always be important to me. We’ll always remember him, and talk about him. We’ll still visit his grave and celebrate his birthday. But now I’ve found someone else that makes me happy. Just like your Daddy did. He isn’t going to replace Dad—no one can. But I think Kurt could be a really great addition to our life, bud.”

                He chooses his words carefully and speaks slowly, making sure that Henry is picking up on everything that he’s saying.

                “He’s different than Daddy is.”

                “He is different, yeah. But different is good. I don’t want someone who’s like Daddy because I don’t want to replace Daddy. Kurt’s different, but he’s also really similar to Dad, Henry. He likes to laugh and sing. And unlike Daddy he can actually sing in tune,” Blaine smiles. “And if you give him a chance I really think that you two will get along.”

                “He doesn’t like anything that I like,” Henry defends.

                “Do you know that though? Have you given him a chance? Talked to him about his hobbies?”

                Henry sets his jaw and doesn’t answer.

                “I can’t force you to like him. If you don’t like him that’s okay. You don’t have to like someone just because I do,” Blaine chokes out, a few more tears escaping from his eye. “But you have to give him a chance first before you decide you don’t like him.”

                “What if I don’t like him?” Henry asks, head still on Blaine’s shoulder.

                “ _You will always come first in my life_ ,” Blaine says seriously, turning to face Henry so Henry is forced to look up into his eyes. Blaine surges forward to hug his son, arms squeezing tight around him.

* * *

                Henry goes to bed that night without saying anything. He wakes up the next morning and goes to school, comes home and studies for his Math test with Blaine. Blaine drops him off at a friend’s house for a play date and picks him up later that night after dinner. Henry still hasn’t said anything, and Blaine is holding his breath. Kurt is coming over tomorrow afternoon to pick them up for the game. The game that Henry still doesn’t know about.

                Blaine’s afraid that Henry will still act aloof and stand off-ish. He’s hoping for the best but expecting the worst. The past twenty-four hours he has been sure to put a little extra _oomf_   in every hug he gives his son.

                It’s a little nerve wracking when your eleven year old son holds the fate of your future, of your relationship, in his small, pre-pubescent hands.

* * *

                The doorbell rings at twelve-thirty sharp. It’s almost unnerving how punctual Kurt is. Henry is just finishing lunch and putting his dishes in the dishwasher when Blaine answers the door. Henry’s hidden from view so Blaine leans forward and gives Kurt a hello kiss.

                Kurt already knows that Blaine told Henry about them. However, they both agree that they don’t want to force their relationship on him, especially when he’s outwardly expressed his dislike of it.

                Blaine tries to take Kurt’s coat from him as well as the plastic bag he’s carrying, but Kurt waves him off.

                They walk into the living room together where Henry is now sitting and watching TV.

                “Is that what you’re wearing?” Kurt hesitantly asks Henry, who’s on the couch wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

                “What’s wrong with it? I don’t even know where we’re going.”

                It’s about the most comprehensive sentence he’s said to Kurt thus far, and though it’s said with a bit of a bite Blaine counts it as a win.

                “Well, it’s not _bad_. But I think you could do with a bit more spirit.” He pulls something out of the plastic bag he has around his arm and throws it lightly at Henry. It lands on his chest and Henry picks it up, unfolding the piece of cloth and holding it in front of him.

                “No,” Henry utters out of disbelief.

                Blaine moves to the side so he can see what it is Henry’s holding. When he does, he looks back at Kurt, eyes gleaming with surprise. It’s a Philadelphia Union jersey.

                “I thought you should look a bit more like the rest of us,” Kurt continues, unzipping his jacket so he can show off his newly purchased Union jersey, too. He then throws the bag at Blaine who just barely catches it. “Yours is in there, too,” he smiles.

                “Wait…” Henry says, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Are we….are we going to a game?” He asks.

                “Yeah. I hope that’s all right?” Kurt asks with honest curiosity.

                “You’re taking me to a Union game?” He looks up at Kurt.

                “Yeah. But we have to leave soon. We have a two hour drive ahead of us.”

                “OH MY GOD!” Henry screams, jumping up from the couch. “I HAVE TO GO GET CHANGED.”

                He runs upstairs and Blaine walks over to Kurt, enveloping him in a hug.

                “Think that went well?” Kurt asks.

                Blaine just smiles and noses along Kurt’s shoulder, smile hidden in Kurt’s jacket.

                 They’re still standing like that when Henry comes rushing down the stairs, new jersey on and a pair of sunglasses on top of his head.

                “Come on, Dad! Get changed! I don’t want to be late.”

                Blaine detaches himself from Kurt and takes his shirt off then and there, replacing it with the jersey.

                “Alright. I’m ready.”

                Kurt heads out first so Blaine can grab his wallet and lock the house up. As they walk to his car, Blaine alongside Henry, Blaine whispers, “Kurt did this all on his own. He really wants to get to know you.”

                The car ride is filled with noise. Kurt and Blaine talk most of the way there with Henry contributing a bit; he repeats soccer facts and the names of his favorite players and how he’s never been to a soccer game before. Kurt smiles and looks at Henry through the rearview mirror.

                “Well I’m glad you get to go to one finally,” he says.

                Henry doesn’t say anything for a bit. Just sits there quietly kicking his leg against his seat.

                “Thanks for the ticket,” he mumbles a few minutes later. “And the jersey,” he adds.

                They’re at a red light and Kurt takes the time to turn around and look at Henry.

                “You’re welcome,” he smiles.

                When they start driving again Blaine grabs Kurt’s hand and doesn’t let go.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #505: Blaine's husband died some years ago and, while trying to rebuilt a life for himself and his son (or daughter), he eventually falls in love again. The problem is that his son doesn't want anything to do with his new boyfriend and, between that and the vague guilt he felt when he thought about his husband, he decides he can't keep seeing this man. Then, one night, his son overhears him crying and realizes that he doesn't want his dad to be sad anymore and that maybe he can give this guy a chance.


End file.
